Fire Red Lipstick-Yenissa

3

I wake up the next morning and get ready for another boring day of school. I tie my four foot long, golden blonde hair into a braid and slip on a pair of jeans and a cute tee-shirt. I just have to look cute for my fiancé, Jaxon!

The bus screeches to a stop in front of my house. I sigh. The bus has never been a good experience, but ever since the car crash my parents died in, I haven't been able to bring myself to get in a car and drive. The trauma is just too much to handle.

"Well, you gonna get on or not, missy?" The bus drivers shouts down at me.

I snap out of my thoughts. "Oh, s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry!" I scramble up the bus steps, tripping over my shoes as I go. Whispers rise up from the other students. Every time I get on this stupid bus, people are always whispering! I never know what they're saying, but it can't be good.

"She's so beautiful."

"I wish I looked like her."

"What's her name?"

"Does anyone have her number?"

Barely seconds after I plopped down in a seat at the back of the bus, a hand grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me upwards.

"You think you're so special, don't you, Y/N?! 'Oh, I'm just so quirky! I read books and I don't have any friends and I'm SHY!' You think you're so lonely! Do you know how many guys want to get in your pants? Do you know how many girls wish they were as gorgeous and tiny as you? NO, YOU DON'T! Don't try to act all innocent, Y/N. You're just a loser."

I recognize the voice of the person grasping onto my shirt. Summer Blankensharp. The meanest girl at my school, Southwest Northern High. She's captain of the cheerleading team, and even though she has a boyfriend (Brayden Spare), rumor has it that she's cheated on him with every guy in the tenth grade. Even Tray Venth-Michelle, the most unpopular kid to ever exist.)

Pulling myself out of her reach, I wheel around to face her, hot tears already stinging my eyes. "S-s-s-shut up, Summer! You're j-j-just a b-b-b-b-bully!"

She flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, is that so? Well, let me tell you something, Y/N. A little birdie told me that you're engaged to Jaxon. Is that right?"

I nod, my head held high, although I look much more confident than I feel.

"Alright then. You see, Jaxon and I go way back. In fact, he lost his virginity to me! So no matter how much you try to convince yourself that he loves you, just know that Jaxon. Is. Mine. And don't you forget it." She saunters off, hips swaying in that tight black dress. That bitch.

My head slams against the bus seat. A hand is in tugging on my braid. A high heel is stepping on the red converse I have on. Muffled shouts come from somewhere near me and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. I cough. These must be Summer's cronies: Clara, Emily, Agata, and Sage. All they do is just mindlessly follow Summer's orders, as if they all share a brain. All one single organism, like the Pando aspen grove in Utah.

        Sometime later, they leave. The bus arrives at school and I get off looking like a corpse that left it's soul behind. To be fair, that's what it felt like as well. My eyes are on the floor and I don't even see it coming when a cold hand wraps around my wrist and drags me into the bathroom.

        "What happened?" Jaxon asks me.

        "Summer Blankensharp," I sniff, "a-a-a-a-a-and her c-cronies."

        He turns around, hands on his head and shouts, "THOSE ASSHOLES! I'M GOING TO KILL THEM, YOU HEAR ME? HOW DARE THEY LAY A FINGER ON YOU!" My eyes are on the floor again, but a loud crumbling sound tells me that he punched a whole in the cinderblock wall.

        He grabs ahold of my waist and lifts me onto the counter. "Let's get you cleaned up."

        As Jaxon cares for the wounds on my face,  I notice him glancing down at my lips every few seconds. He wants to kiss me; I know it. And it's a good thing I want to kiss him.

        His lips crashing onto mine comes as no surprise, but when something warm and wet slips into my mouth, I gasp. Our tongues fight for dominance. Jaxon's wins. He pick me up off the counter and then my back hits the cold tile floor. I wince in pain.

        "Are you okay?"

        "Y-y-y-y-yeah."

        "J-j-j-j-j-jaxon?"

       "Hm?"

        "I. . . .I want you to-"

        My sentence gets cut off by the feeling of his soft lips against my neck. This is really happening. Oh my god, this is really happening!

        And the rest is history.